


Relief

by D_f_m22



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Headaches & Migraines, The Vault (Doctor Who), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_f_m22/pseuds/D_f_m22
Summary: Missy is restless and suffering from a migraine.The Doctor provides some relief.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Missy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I finally wrote something!
> 
> Although not much happens. 
> 
> Feedback appreciated. I hope you're all keeping well wherever you are.

It was April but the weather had been deceivingly warm for the season. Instead of clouded skies and scattered showers, the sun had shone brightly, and temperatures had soared to heights much more befitting of the summer months; July or August and- maybe, just maybe, at a push-September. It had made it that little bit more difficult when the spring heatwave had inevitably broken. The endless blue skies giving way to an all imposing greyness that brought with it an odd sense of communal claustrophobia. Whereas the bright weather brought with it an optimistic openness with a palpable sense of possibility, the more seasonable rain brought a sense of shutting down and turning inwards. People did not smile in greeting or nod, disbelieving of their good fortune, to the sky. Instead they tucked their chins into the shelter of their collars and averted their gazes as they went about their day. 

The change in the weather had had a notable impact on the students in the Doctor’s Friday afternoon lecture. Whereas the unseasonable weather earlier in the week had caused the young humans to buzz with excitement at the possibility of an afternoon on the beach finished off with a boozy barbeque in the evening, the rain had rather dampened spirits. As the Time Lord carelessly shoved his books and papers into his old satchel- the faux leather, once a deep brown in colour, was now dimmed and cracked at the edges- he couldn’t help but smile at conversations that developed between his students as they left the auditorium; each one sounded personally aggrieved by the sudden change in weather as though the Universe had personally set out to ruin their weekend plans. 

It was typical of the young- particularly the young of earth- to take things personally.

For his part, the Doctor took it in his stride. At least the change in weather had provided variety- who wanted it to be sunny all the time anyway? Plus, the spring weather was only doing what spring weather did. It was in its nature. The Doctor would not begrudge a venomous snake that lulled the timid mouse into a false sense of security and then reverted to form; why would he begrudge the month of April? Now, on the topic of reverting to nature, the Doctor’s mind reverted to the Mistress in the Vault. She was another being that when pushed into a corner, like the snake and the springtime, would revert to form. Or maybe that was not completely fair- she had been better of late and he was nearly certain she was trying to be better. Attention turned to the large stained-glass windows at the back of the lecture hall, the Doctor watched as the latest rain shower subsided and a glimmer of late afternoon sunshine peaked through the clouds. It looked like the weather was settling- the perfect time to make his escape. 

XXXXXXXX

The manufactured rain that had been hitting the holographic windows of the Vault for the better part of the day started to ease, the speedy droplets decreasing in speed and eventually stopping completely. A tiny glimmer of sun broke through the clouds but lacked the enthusiasm to bring any lasting change to the grim landscape and quickly returned to hide behind the clouds. The blanket of greyness returned, bringing with it a stifling nothingness. Weather wise, it was fast becoming a nothing day. There was not the torrential rain, gale force winds or claps of thunder that brought excitement and danger. Nor was there scorching heat and bright skies that promised long, lazy days and made everything seem that much brighter. 

Instead there was just a nothingness. Missy scowled- her all or nothing approach to life extended to the meteorological. Her life had been filled with nothing but nothing days for the last three decades. Once upon a time in the Vault, her days had been filled with mania and angry outbursts. She had been too far gone to notice or care about the monotony of her new life in captivity. As her moods levelled out though, her awareness became more attuned. All too suddenly, she had become aware of her new existence- no freedom and no fresh air all for a thousand years. Despite random visits from the Doctor or Humpty Dumpty at intervals throughout the week, Missy had little to break up the days. 

A noise at the Vault doors signalled that it was time for one of those visits. 

It was obvious that it was the Doctor rather than the cyborg. 

The person behind the doors had an air of confidence and was accompanied by the smell of an Indian takeaway- lamb jalfrezi, chicken korma and an accompaniment of onion bhajis, cheese naans and two and a half poppadums- the Doctor must have become peckish on his way down. Though she was loathed to admit it, the korma would be for her. In every body, spicy food had always made her sneeze. It was a quirk that she hated while the Doctor loved it- Missy supposed it made her seem more human to him; what a dreadful notion. 

“Are you in the containment field?” 

Missy rolled her eyes, insulted that the Doctor still thought that that made the blindest bit of difference. Containment field or not, she could up and leave anytime she desired. Still, the enticing whiff of curry and the prospect of a semi-intelligent conversation to while away the monotonous hours were enough to coerce her into complying.

“Yes,” Missy trilled as she shuffled from foot to foot. “Your latest side show attraction is safely confined. Now stop arsing around or the food will get cold.” 

Missy winced at the clipped tone of her voice. 

It was the first time she had spoken aloud in several days- at least she was nearly certain it was. She had not meant to sound quite so aggravated, but she could not help it. She was no saint and three days alone with nothing but the weather to observe was more than enough to try her patience. If he had taken offence to her tone, the Doctor did not comment on it. Instead, the Vault doors rumbled open and the other Time Lord walked in with practiced routine; placing their dinner on the work top as he set about laying the dinner table. 

Missy observed in silence- pleased for something new to watch- while the Doctor rambled away with details about his day. Eventually, when the table was set, the Doctor turned his full attention to Missy. His eyes raked over her form as they trailed from her frizzy hair down to creased linen shirt and black leggings before eventually settling on the chipped nail polish on her toenails. Missy squirmed- whether in embarrassment or discomfort she was not sure. It had been several days- maybe a week- since she had bothered washing. As the realities of her confinement set in, the Time Lady had started questioning whether such a regime was strictly necessary. 

“You’re quiet,” the Doctor commented as he took his usual seat at the table. The containment field flickered away, and he motioned to the empty seat opposite him. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Missy blinked and gawped at the Doctor, realising she had not said anything since his arrival. Taking a few measured steps towards the table, she made a show of stretching out her back as she tried to ignore the nagging aches that resided in her bones. A dull ache thrummed behind her eyes and across the front of her forehead and Missy hoped she could prevent a full-on migraine from developing but feared that ship may have sailed. 

“Nought to say,” Missy shrugged as she eventually took her place at the table. “No point in talking for the sake of talking.”

Missy watched as the Doctor laughed, the corners of his lips drawing into a smile as he broke off a bit of poppadum, dipping it into the chutney sauce before he indulged in a hearty spoonful of jalfrezi. Missy winced, nose twitching at the sight as she broke her naan bread into several pieces and began nibbling at the sides. It was hard to miss the concerned glance that the Doctor shot at her, but Missy did her best to ensure she at least looked like she had missed it.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” the Doctor chided. “I never thought I’d see you speechless…” 

“Pot kettle black.” 

Missy retorted as she placed her naan bread down on the plate and massaged her forehead, closing her eyes and letting out a tired sigh. The thrumming had increased- why did the Doctor always have to make her headaches worse?

At this stage, a migraine seemed inevitable. 

“Omega, you’re grumpy today,” the Doctor observed. Missy did not need to open her eyes to know his look of concern had increased tenfold. “Seriously, who’s rattled your cage?” 

Missy opened her eyes at that, glaring at the Doctor as she tried to determine whether his words had been a clumsy mistake or ill-advised wit. 

“Darling,” Missy cooed, finally attempting to stomach some of her korma. “You’re not smart enough or pretty enough to get away with a metaphor like that.”

“What?” the Doctor questioned. “Oh, right cage metaphors probably not funny with our current arrangement. Noted.” 

Missy clenched her teeth and nodded as she returned to her dinner. 

“What’s wrong, Missy?” the Doctor asked. “There’s quiet and there’s this…”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Missy sighed pursing her lips and letting out low whistle as he looked up at the Doctor. A glimmer of mirth shone brightly in her blue eyes, momentarily easing the head ache. “I’m bored in the Vault, yeah I’m in the Vault bored. Bored in the motherfuckin’ Vault bored…” 

The Doctor scowled as he tried to contain a laugh. He could not and laughed heartily before regaining some composure. 

“Stop using the tablet I got you to consume future Earth culture! Nardole would have kittens if he found out I’d given you that!” 

Missy smirked at the Doctor; eyebrow raised as she pointed her fork at him. 

“Even you- with your brain full of dust- must see the irony in what you’ve just said.” Missy giggled, poking her chicken korma around her plate. “Now kittens, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. Kitten korma would be more appetising.” 

Placing her fork down, Missy sighed and massaged her forehead tiredly. 

“What?” The Doctor questioned. “Even for you that’s an odd thing to say. I mean sure, if you had made a jibe about curried humans, but kittens? You like kittens.”

“Alliteration trumps accuracy, dear,” Missy said by way of an explanation. “human korma sounds rubbish. Kitten korma fits with the aesthetic. Somewhat.” 

The Vault suddenly felt hot and caused Missy to take a greedy slurp of her water. The Doctor watched keenly as he started to pile up the empty food packages. Missy watched as he leaned forward, lips pursed in concern. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

Missy shrugged and pulled her knee into her chest as she rested her chin atop it. Her headache was taking on a life of its own now, her vision blurred as she tried to focus on the Doctor and her telepathic synapses grew more sensitive-picking up first on the Doctor’s thoughts (concern, scepticism, wariness), then on the thoughts of sentient beings outside the Vault (the student weighing up whether buying new pack of condoms would jinx his chances with the girl he liked, the crow in the tree was excited as she surveyed all the fresh worms the rain had brought to the surface and the senior economics lecturer was wondering if she was too old to carry off the leather trousers she’d recently purchased). Then, as if she needed the final sign that a migraine was on the horizon, her sense of time blurred. Not only was she no longer able to feel time moving around her, she was overwhelmed by the sense of every possible timeline hitting her at once. She had been prone to migraines all her lives, they had plagued her as a student at the Academy, her studious intensity led to days of migraines that left her bedridden. 

Drawing her gaze up to the Doctor, Missy realised he was expecting an answer. Even the action of simply moving her eyes had been enough to trigger another wave of pain. 

“Do you have any red lyxcvir extract?” She asked hopefully. It seemed unlikely that the Doctor would have the only Gallifreyan herbal remedy that had ever helped. 

The Doctor shook his head. 

“Afraid not,” he replied. “Migraines? I didn’t know you still suffered with them.” 

Missy nodded but instantly regretted it as the pain thrummed around her head. Taking a deep breath, her hand gripped the table edge and she closed her eyes. 

“Yeah, I had them a lot when I first got here but I guess they were kind of overshadowed by the bouts of rage and psychosis.” Missy replied. “Its just a quirk. We’re all prone to things, like you and those stupid nose bleeds.” 

“Missy, the last time I had a nosebleed was when you head butted me in a bout of rage.”

“Details, details,” Missy tutted. “You always looked pretty with blood on your face.” 

“Charmed, I’m sure,” the Doctor drawled in reply. “Go and lay down, would you? You are all nonsensical quips and thinly veiled threats now, but I remember the trajectory of your migraines. Fast forward a few hours and you will be doubled over in agony and blaming me.” 

Missy looked at the Doctor a little uncertainly. While the comfort of her bed was appealing, she could not help but worry that it would cut short the only visit she had had from the Doctor that week. 

“Seriously, Missy, go to bed. I’m going to clean up and then I’ll join you.”

With the Doctor’s reassurance that he would not be leaving, Missy stood and walked towards her bed on shaky legs. It was all a blur- the walk to her bed, the moment she collapsed onto the waiting mattress and pulled the duvet over her head and the blissful moment that darkness silenced the competing time lines and telepathic synapses. 

XXXXXXXX

It had been a pleasant surprise to the Doctor when Missy had admitted that she had a migraine. Not that her pain had been pleasant to him but rather that she had been able to verbalise what was wrong. In many of their past lives, the Master had fought needlessly against admitting they were in pain- afraid, the Doctor supposed, of revealing a weakness. Even in the early years in the Vault, Missy would ardently deny anything that she perceived to be a weakness.

It had been evident from the moment he had entered the Vault earlier that evening that something was wrong. The quietness was so unlike Missy and that coupled with the odd comments (kitten korma, what was that about?) and distantness was enough to send alarm bells ringing in the Doctor’s mind. In truth, the fact that it was a migraine had been a relief to the Doctor. 

Migraines were easier to deal with than psychosis or genocidal plotting or both. 

The Doctor sat down in the high-back armchair that rested to the side of Missy’s bed, fingers drawing circles in the mauve velvet material. Missy was snoring softly, as good as dead to the world. She had been asleep for close to eight hours now, far longer than the Time Lord had been expecting her to sleep. Still, he hoped that the lengthy slumber was helping to ease the onset of her migraine. It had also given him a chance to clean up from dinner and fetch some medicine from the supermarket pharmacy. He may not have been able to source her favoured Gallifreyan remedies but the ice pack and roll on pain relief should go some way towards helping. 

Just as the Doctor was considering waking her up, Missy shuffled in her bed and pulled the duvet completely over her head. The Doctor watched as the Time Lady shivered and mumbled something he could not quite hear. They were in the eye of the storm. He remembered this more clearly now- the pattern of her migraines and how they would always get worse before they got better. If he recalled correctly, he would be lucky to get much sense out of her for the next few hours. 

“What’s that?”

As he leaned in closer, he tried to pull the duvet away to let in some air as he worried that she would overheat. He was met with resistance as Missy pulled the duvet in tighter and continued to mumble. He still could not make out quite what she was saying but recognised certain words; loud thoughts, stupid humans, there is a badger nearby, time strange, lights too bright. None of the words made much sense and the Doctor reasoned that her telepathic synapses continued to be overwhelmed. There was not much he could do about most of those things- he could however dim the lights. And he did, dimming them until they were in pitch black darkness. Missy’s mumblings stopped and the Doctor briefly wondered if she had fallen to sleep. Then, the covers moved again, and Missy’s head peaked out of the covers. 

“It’s still not gone,” Missy complained, voice strained. “I thought it would be gone when I woke up.”

“Afraid not. I’m assuming you’re talking about the migraine and not me…” the Doctor consoled, aiming of humour in the hope it would cheer Missy up. If she did enjoy the joke, she showed no sign of it and instead rested against the pillow with a pained groan. Not a time for jokes, the Doctor mentally noted. “Hey, I got something that might help, can you try and sit up?”

Missy made no effort to sit up but did thankfully remain on her back, it made it easier for the Doctor to place the ice pack on her forehead. He watched in sympathy as she jolted in surprise at the cold sensation, still it seemed to work as her face mellowed and she returned to a fitful sleep. 

XXXXXXXX

The first thing that Missy noticed when she woke up was the darkness; it was dark, really dark. The kind of darkness that made it impossible to see your hand in front of your face. The second thing that Missy noticed was that her head no longer felt like it was about to explode, her mind was not completely overwhelmed by the mere presence of other sentient beings and time was moving a bit more normally. There was still a dull ache behind her eyes, and she felt more exhausted than she thought possible given the time she had been asleep. She was vaguely aware of a cool sensation on her forehead and then of someone’s hand on her skin. The hand skimmed across her forehead, removing the old cold thing with an even colder new thing. It felt blissful, the tension in her muscles releasing marginally. An involuntary gasp escaped Missy’s lips eliciting a chuckle from the person next to her. 

“Steady on, Missy, we wouldn’t want any passers-by to get the wrong end of the stick.”

Doctor. Safe. Home. 

The thoughts hit Missy in waves, crashing against her awareness alongside flashes of memory from the night before; the onset of her migraine, somehow making it through dinner, sleeping, waking, pain, pain, pain, confusion, more pain, whimpering, crying, cowering, a sigh, the dip of weight on the bed, the Doctor’s arms around her, lips against her forehead, fingers in her hair, whispered encouragements: “sleep, you’ll feel better soon”, and then finally rest. 

Missy turned her head towards the Doctor, carefully testing to see where the pain remained. In clusters it seemed, at the temples of her forehead and at the juncture between the back of her head and the nape of her neck. Her whole body was tensed but everything felt slightly better than it had the night before. Pressing her palms into the mattress, Missy attempted to ease herself up but found that her strength was not quite up to it. 

“Careful,” the Doctor warned. “There’s no rush, eh? Just rest up a little.” 

Accepting defeat, Missy allowed her body to melt against the bed. The Doctor laid down next to her, looking almost as exhausted as she did. He let out a yawn and Missy let an odd feeling of pride settle in her stomach- the Doctor was tired because he had been looking after her all night. Curling into the Doctor’s side, Missy very gently lifted her head and tucked it under his chin. The slight movement made the room spin and she squeezed her eyes shut to counter it. The Doctor pressed his hand firmly against the small of her back, kneading small circles into the skin and massaging up the length of her spine. 

“You had me worried last night,” he mused out loud. “I haven’t seen you in that much pain for a long time.” 

Missy felt the pride in her stomach swell further- the Doctor was worried about her! At the Doctor’s ministrations, she tried to relax but found that her body was still braced for pain; unable to recognise that the worst had passed. 

“I haven’t been in that much pain for a while,” Missy confessed. “Usually the madness blocks the pain out. I never thought I would miss the madness. Strange.” 

“You still feel tense,” the Doctor commented. “Try to relax for me.” 

Missy tried to do as he said, hooking her leg over the Doctor’s hips and pressing herself as closely to him as possible. For his part, the Doctor deepened his massage as he tried to iron out the tension. To her surprise, Missy felt a bolt of desire course through her as her body enjoyed pleasure rather than pain. How long had it been since she had been able to enjoy this kind of touch? Too long. The Doctor continued his movements obliviously, pressing his fingertips into her skin and expertly massaging every pressure point. She felt herself growing wet and in their closeness the Doctor must have felt it too. 

“That’s better. Just relax and enjoy the feeling. You were in a lot of pain last night; I want you to feel good.” 

Missy was not sure whether the Doctor understood the implications of his words or not. Either way, for once in her lives she did as she was told and relaxed under his touch. As the Doctor’s fingers dipped between her legs and skimmed her inner thighs, Missy was certain he knew what he was doing. How unlike him in this body. Still, Missy was not complaining- perhaps the blanket of darkness and delirious tiredness they were both feeling was enough to warrant a temporary lapse in personality. 

“And maybe I want to help you feel good,” the Doctor replied in answer to her unasked question. “I haven’t seen you like that in a long time, Missy. It was not pleasant. If this helps, so be it. Omega knows we’ve been lovers just as long as we’ve been friends.”

Missy laughed and instantly regretted at as wave of pain crashed over her head. It eased quickly much to the relief of both Time Lords. 

“Lovers? How poetic of you…” Missy teased. “But how did you know what I was thinking?”

“Your migraines always have a minor traumatic impact on you. Your thoughts leak out and you lose control of your telepathic abilities. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I’m a bit busy trying to recover my senses, dear, excuse me for not noticing.”

Missy watched as the Doctor nodded and returned his attention back to massaging the length of her body. Missy found herself pressing against the Doctor more firmly; face pressed against the Doctor’s neck she felt the pain leave her body in stages and found herself grinding against his hips. A needy whine escaped her lips. 

“Relax,” the Doctor cooed. “If that is the kind of comfort you want, you will get it, but I need you to take it easy.” 

What choice did she have but to listen to him? She did not want the migraine to return and she wanted the relief that he had promised. Missy was smart enough to know when compliance was in her best interest so, as the Doctor advised, she relaxed against his frame. She was not completely docile and now she had returned to feeling a little more like herself, she indulged in biting sharply at the Doctor’s exposed shoulder. He growled in response, laughing as he placed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Nice to see you’ve got some bite back,” the Doctor said, momentarily pausing his movements. “Are you sure this is helping?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Missy replied instantly, chest heaving. “I swear if you stop now, I won’t be responsible for my actions…” 

Clearly that was all the Doctor needed as within seconds, Missy felt the massage restarting. Relaxing under the sensation once more, she closed her eyes and let out a grateful moan. It was a pleasant relief after such a torturous night. The Doctor dipped his hands between Missy’s legs, quickly working to pull her knickers down. His thumb pressed against her clit, drawing gentle circles that sent jolts of pleasure shooting through her body. Missy gasped, grinding against the Doctor’s hand, and feeling his fingers slide into her. It did not take much for her to cum, her body exhausted from the migraine and tension, that she was nearly ready to explode as soon as she felt his fingers enter her. After a few strokes in and out, Missy came with a silent cry as her walls clenched. Turning her cheek to rest against the Doctor’s shoulder, Missy smiled up at him and gently kissed his jaw. The last remnants of the tension left her body and she felt her eyes closing. 

“Thank you for that Doctor,” Missy purred, lips curling into a smirk. “Your prescription certainly worked.” 

The Doctor chuckled, stroking Missy’s hair back and kissing her forehead. The cooling pad had become skewed, half of it peeling away from her forehead and slipping down the side of her face. Relaxing further against the Doctor, Missy felt herself start to fall asleep but waking with a jolt as she began to snore.   
“Tired again,” Missy mumbled. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay, Missy. Go to sleep.” 

XXXXXXXX

Two days passed before Missy felt well enough to leave her bed. Sat at the table, opposite the Doctor, the Time Lady wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. 

“You look better,” the Doctor commented. “You had me worried for a while.”

“Yeah,” Missy hummed. “I was not thrilled by the whole thing.” 

“Do you have any idea what caused the migraine?” The Doctor asked curiously. 

Missy shrugged. “I imagine it’s a side effect of my ginormous brain.”

“Ha ha,” the Doctor deadpanned. “Seriously though, any ideas?”

“Not really, one of those things. I’d been feeling a bit restless all day.”

“Hmm,” the Doctor said. “Keep an eye on it eh, we do not want it getting that bad again.”

“Yeah,” Missy agreed. “Thanks though…For your help.”

“It was nothing. I’m sure you’d have done the same.”

The two Time Lords fell into a companionable silence for a few moments. 

“Oh and Doctor?”

“Yes Missy?” 

“Thanks for the other thing. That really helped.”


End file.
